


Hush of the Tides

by MapleMooseMuffin



Series: Ebb and Flow of the Sea [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Can't believe I forgot that one, Don't let these tags fool you this is actually really really gentle, F/M, Intimacy, Lance is hopelessly in love, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, No one chokes anyone but Lance is definitely turned on by the thought, Praise Kink, Teasing, it is intimacy porn, they both are, very very light reference to asphyxiation?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 08:05:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14869916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleMooseMuffin/pseuds/MapleMooseMuffin
Summary: Lance and Allura share an intimate moment in the confines of her royal bedchambers, tucked away from the war that ravages their lives.--“In between the tides of this war, they’ve carved out a separate peace here, in these royal bedchambers, amidst the high thread counts and permanently fluffed pillows. Behind the sheer canopy, where nothing but ethereal light can touch them. Not every time is bare skinned, but they are always naked; natural and unguarded, whether that means low voices over cups of sweetened tea, or shuddering wet breaths fanning out against tearstained shoulders. It’s always quiet, in ways that distract his mind from the endless quiet beyond the castle walls. The swish of a whispered secret, the breeze of an airy praise. No walls or masks or façades. Here they are allowed to be fractured, allowed to be whole.”--Soundtrack:The XX | AngelsStateless | BloodstreamArctic Monkeys | I Wanna Be Yours





	Hush of the Tides

**Author's Note:**

> -
> 
> This is, in some ways, a love letter.
> 
> -

            There is something to be said for the dimmed castle lights, and the way they cast blue hued shadows over soft, brown skin. For the pale highlights they add to white waves of hair as it slips over bare shoulders and hangs with a silky bounce between them. Lance has always been an idealist, a dreamer, but even he feels surreal to be here, lain out underneath this beautiful princess and the glowing hush radiating out of the illuminated strips along the walls.

            He’s been here before, but every time is still brand new, still monumental. The way his breath catches when Allura traces the line of his neck down to his shoulder, warm delicate fingers barely there. The way his heart rises in his chest and flutters when they lock eyes, when he sees the raw, unfiltered love behind her gaze. The gentle warmth that rolls through him at the soft tickle of her loose hair against his ribs as she turns her head to press plush lips to the ridge of his collarbone. All of it envelops him, covers him like a comforter fresh from the dryer, fills his lungs like the crisp ocean breeze in the summer. It takes him over and radiates throughout her bed, while the ship’s soothing lights wash everything over with their peaceful touch.

            This is home, in a way. A second home, or a third home. Just as safe. Just as worth protecting.

            In between the tides of this war, they’ve carved out a separate peace here, in these royal bedchambers, amidst the high thread counts and permanently fluffed pillows. Behind the sheer canopy, where nothing but ethereal light can touch them. Not every time is bare skinned, but they are always naked; natural and unguarded, whether that means low voices over cups of sweetened tea, or shuddering wet breaths fanning out against tearstained shoulders. It’s always quiet, in ways that distract his mind from the endless quiet beyond the castle walls. The swish of a whispered secret, the breeze of an airy praise. No walls or masks or façades. Here they are allowed to be fractured, allowed to be whole.

            Allura trails her fingers down from his shoulder, gliding them in smooth curves like a figure skater exploring the ice. Mapping familiar ridges just to feel them, revisit the joy of them. Lance breathes slow and takes in the sweet intimacy of it. His hand is on the small of her back, the other at his side, but he hardly moves. Too wrapped up in the motions on her fingers, in the warmth of her breasts on his chest and the waves of her breathing. She smells warm and sweet, like spiced tea with too much cream. Her hair traces his sides and finds his hand as she raises her head to look down at him, with eyes that say _I love you_ in a way that hums through the back of his mind as though she’d said it out loud. Lance sighs and smiles hopelessly, brows rising to pinch in self-conscious disbelief. He slides his hand up and down the small of her back, tracing the indent of her spine, and strokes the silky locks at his side. Allura smiles and closes her eyes, dipping her head to press warmth into his forehead through her lips. _Yes_ , she promises, _I really do_. Lance’s chest draws tight.

            “You’re beautiful,” she whispers when she pulls back. Lance shrinks. He seeks his bottom lip with his teeth, tugs it up as though he can hide. Beautiful is a word he’s longed for, worked for, but never one that he’s known how to wear. Pressed into his skin, it feels fragile and skittish. Easy to scare away. Much like her.

            She brushes knuckles against his cheek as though he is something to be cherished. His eyes flutter at the feeling, at the meaning, while his breathing takes pause. “So beautiful,” Allura insists. Lance wants to whine. To be treated so preciously is overwhelming, too much and yet all he wants, all he craves. He wants to be important to her. Needs to give her everything he has.

            Allura leans down to kiss him, a soft glide of plush wet warmth against his lips. Lance tilts his head to press back, once, twice, another and more still, until he’s lost himself to the steady rhythm of it, the uneven beat of quiet slick sound and paced breaths. Time is slowed here between them, thick and sweet as molasses. Allura shifts her head, pressing kisses to his cheeks and then up, toward his forehead in an unhurried trail. Her hair follows along, falling over her shoulder and into his face. Lance smiles and catches the scent, the same piney trace that lingers in his own hair from the Altean soaps in the showers. He raises his hand to guide it away from his mouth, letting the curls weave their way around his fingers. He closes his eyes so she can press sweet kisses to the lids, first one, then the other, tugging laughter up out of his lungs.

            She pulls back to smile down at him and leans into the hand in her hair. “How are you?” she hums. The sound pulls him deeper into peace.

            “I’m good,” he says, little tilt of the chin to tell her she’s treated him so well. Her smile curls up at the edges, eyelids dipping as she tilts her head in turn.

            “You _are_ good,” she agrees. Lance swallows and coughs, shrinking down into himself and blinking his gaze away. He’d turn his head if she’d let him, but her hand rests firm against his face. Her thumb traces the apple of his cheek and the softer skin beneath his eye. Delicate. Reverent. “So good for me,” she breathes. Lance whimpers and flushes. She spoils him with another kiss.

            The hand on his collar eases lower, skimming down his chest. His breath catches when she dips into the soft skin of his nipple. She hums a pleased near laugh, warm and amused and proud, maybe of herself, maybe of him. It keeps Lance from finding an even rhythm when he manages to breathe again. Allura rubs her finger against him, steady and curious, looking from her hand to his face and back with a kind of love in her eyes that is sharp on the edges, standing at attention in some ways and toying in others. Her eyes are crystal, clean cut and sparkling when she flicks her thumb over his nipple, fast and electric. Lance jumps, a sound sticking in his throat. Allura leans down to kiss his sternum.

            “Do you like this?” she husks, swirling her finger. Lance shudders and tries to meet her eyes.

            “Y-yeah,” he breathes, voice shaking on the waves of feeling. Her brows raise, minutely. A demand. Lance shrinks into himself. “Yes.”

            Allura smiles, flashing teeth, and ducks her head to take him in mouth. Lance moans as she sucks the bead of his nipple up and pinches it between her teeth. Her other hand shifts down from his cheek, skating over his neck in a way that makes him gulp and hold his breath, his skin prickling with an electric shiver at the mere suggestion of her hand around his throat. But she continues down, traces his collarbone while pressing the flat of her tongue against him, lithe and insistent. It’s warm, and good, each little press and swipe alighting thousands of nerves he isn’t normally aware of. His breaths are laced with quiet, high sounds as the air squeezes its way out of his lungs. Allura suckles his nipple again at the same time that her hand presses into his other, and Lance lets his head tip back with an open-mouthed sound that isn’t quite a moan but certainly isn’t an intelligible word, either. She tugs him between her teeth and then pulls away.

            Lance lifts his head to watch her trail kisses across his chest, both hands toying with his softest skin. Her eyes are lowered, lashes fluttering against his chest so that he can feel each time she blinks. It tickles, but he’s more focused on the sweet, acute, near-ache pleasure she draws up over his heart and lungs. He arches into her hands but never gets closer, is already as close as he can be. Allura raises one hand to tuck white waves behind her ear and lowers her head to kiss his other nipple. Her left hand smooths down his side as she repeats the process all over again.

            Her grip on his hip is firm when she finally pulls up to meet his eyes. “Is there anything you want?” she purrs.

            He can feel the wetness on his stomach, a pool dribbled out around the head of his penis. Glancing down, he can see the wet spot on her belly that marks where she’d been pressed against him a moment ago. She must know. But she smiles sweetly at him and waits, stroking a thumb along the dip of his hipbone.

            Lance considers his options. If he asks her to take him in hand, she will. She’ll trace up and down his flesh, curl her strong grip around him and bring him off with steady pulls. But then it’ll end. In a burst of euphoria, but still end. He doesn’t want this to end yet.

            “I’unno,” he mumbles, shrugging. It’s a lie blatant enough for her to catch it, and she does, with an arch of the brow that flips his stomach. She’s still smiling, though the corners have curled again in that predatory way of hers. Lance swallows against the thrill shooting through him like a shiver.

            “You don’t know?” Allura asks. There’s an underlying hum to her every word, now. She skates her right hand down his chest. Lance shrugs again, unable to look her in the eye as he bites back a guilty smile. “Hmmm,” she pretends to muse.

            Lance shivers when she traces the crease of his leg, where the skin dips between his thigh and his hip. His breath catches in anticipation. If she shifted just a few inches to the right…

            “You’re certain there’s nothing you want?” she asks. She’s grinning now, showing off pretty teeth that he wouldn’t mind feeling against his skin again. Lance bites his lip around his own smile and shrugs again, insistent. Allura chuckles, low, in the back of her throat. She lowers her head.

            Lance holds his breath and raises his head to watch as she comes closer and closer to the little pool on his stomach. Will she really take him in, just like that? His dick twitches, eager even if he wants to drag this out. But Allura stops just an inch too high, and kisses the soft skin of his stomach instead.

            “Nothing here, surely,” she says. Lance closes his eyes at the way it feels, to know they both know, to be teased. It tightens the tension in his core.

            Allura continues to trace the dip between hip and thigh. She presses another kiss to his stomach, beside the first, and then another on the other side. Each kiss is slow and intent. Meant to be felt. She’s making a point, pressing it into his skin with soft, wet heat. Her next press is below his ribs.

            Lance gasps as the scrape and pinch of teeth, eyes opening again to watch Allura leave her mark on his skin. It stings. Hard pressure and a flare of heat that ignites his nerves. He whines when she pulls away, and pants from the feeling, eyes half lidded. She smiles and presses a softer kiss over the mottled pinkness that will slowly bruise.

            “Such a lovely sound,” she husks. Another electric shiver cuts through Lance, firing down his spine as he whines again. Allura chuckles, the sound deep in the back of her throat, kisses her way up to his sternum. Her skin is warm as she drapes across him.

            Lance tilts his head up for a kiss, asking with his eyes. She kisses his chin and along his jaw first, pressing her nose into the dip below his ear. He jumps and sighs when she nips his earlobe.

            “How are you?” she sighs into his ear.

            Lance licks his lips and answers on a sigh. “Good. I’m good.”

            Allura smirks, that sharp crystal look in her eye again, and leans over to kiss him deeply. Lance finds his focus torn, split between the steady press and pull of her lips and the smooth glide of her hand up his side and over his collar. Allura closes her teeth around his lower lip and tugs, pulling both his lip and a short moan up into her mouth, then releasing him with a chuckle. The sound is predatory, toying. She ducks back down to kiss him all over again. Lance tries to keep up, his mind feeling a little water logged. Overwhelmed and lost at sea, helpless to the crashing wave that is her affection, her ownership.

            Allura slides her hand around the back of his neck and pulls him closer, pressing harder. Lance moans and raises his hands, wrapping arms around her back and finding handfuls of her soft hair. She strokes her thumb over his Adam’s apple, and he _shudders_.

            “So good for me,” she murmurs. Lance swallows, feels her hand pressed against his throat. He breathes shallowly, feeling every nerve at once. Allura kisses along his jaw again, humming with each soft sound he makes under her thumb. When she reaches his temple she slides her hand back down, skimming her nails over his skin as she goes. Just enough to be felt, and leave tingling lines of sensation in their wake.

            “I want to be good for you,” Lance breathes. He feels her smile against his forehead. She kisses the pinch in his brow, sweet and soothing, while her hand turns against his ribs, then rakes up his side in one sudden jolt. Lance gasps and arches up at the slice of ice and then heat shooting through him. He moans as he eases back down.

            “You are good,” Allura purrs. He wants to roll his eyes back at the sound. “You respond so well for me.” She smooths her hand down the same path, dragging fingertips over the raised red lines on his chest, adding flame to their heat. He groans at the sting, his head swimming from it. “Such a good boy,” she breathes in his ear. Lance’s moan trails into another whine.

            “Please,” he pants, turning his head to her. Allura smiles, flashing teeth, and kisses along his throat. She pauses when she comes to the curve of his shoulder.

            “Please what?” Her voice vibrates into his throat, pulling another shudder loose from his core.

            Lance opens his mouth to answer her, but Allura chooses then to sink her teeth into him, making his words catch and stutter out. He can feel her grinning against him as he lets out a lilting sigh.

            “Hmm?” she hums, still sucking her mark into his shoulder. Lance makes another high sound.

            He wants to answer her. Wants to be good and do what he should, what she wants him to. But it’s hard to focus. She pulls back, and Lance takes in a breath to answer, only for it to shake out in another high sound when she bites down again, just beside the last mark.

            “You have to tell me what you want,” Allura purrs when she comes up again. The castle’s lights wash over her cheeks, drowning out the pink of her facial markings and highlighting her eyes. Lance gives her a pleading look, not certain if she’ll let him speak again, or if she wants him to do it while she’s distracting him with all this pleasure.

            Allura cups his cheek and kisses him, softer than anything she’s done thus far. A delicate, slow press and glide that soothes him. When she pulls back, her eyes are brimming with that soft, enamored glow that says she is nearly as enraptured in him as he is in her.

            “Please,” he says again. She blinks, slow and gentle, like a cat granting its trust. She’s listening to him while she runs her hands soothingly up and down his side. Lance swallows but holds her gaze, steady and earnest. “Tell me I’m… I’m good,” he says, breathy and pleading. His face burns as he begs for it.

            Allura traces his hip and watches him, as though she can burn her love into him if they stare at one another for long enough. He knows she gets as much out of this as him, that every sigh and high sound she teases out of his lungs sends a ripple of something through her, as well. But still he wants to please her. To give her everything he has, and spoil her. Worship her like she deserves. His every fiber longs for it with each passing stroke of her thumb on his hip.

            His breath hitches as she inches her hand inward, tracing the v of his hips. He shivers, sensitive beneath her fingers. Allura leans down to press a kiss to the center of his chest, soft and sweet. Her hand skips the space between his legs and jumps to trace back up the other side of his hips. He drops his head back against the pillows with a quiet groan.

            “You are good,” she says, looking up from his chest. “You are so good for me. Waiting so patiently like this. Making such lovely sounds.” Lance’s breath shudders in his throat. He bites his lip as she grins, crystal eyes glinting with a dark pleasure.

            “Can you feel how close I am?” she asks sweetly. Her finger swirls across his skin, tight circles just an inch away from where he twitches against his stomach, heavy and heated. It aches, to be this aroused and still untouched, but he loves it. Loves the way the need singes up his veins, fuzzes out his mind. Leaves him trembling in her wake.

            “Do you want me to touch you?” she asks.

            Lance rolls his hips into her touch without meaning to. She laughs, soft and low in her throat, a rumbling, possessive sound that heats him to his core. He worries the lip between his teeth and nods, shrinking down in embarrassment. In submission. Allura sighs in a hum and circles her hand closer to his dick.

            “Where should I touch you, then?”

            Lance twitches. Allura swirls closer and closer, slowly closing in towards the wet patch of skin on his belly. His entire body buzzes, senses heightened to their highest point as his nerves key in on the feathery brush of her fingertip. His breaths are shallow, anticipatory. Still she teases, skirting as close as she can to his heated flesh without actually touching him. She’s waiting, he knows. She won’t do anything more until he answers her question, as if she doesn’t know how much he burns to feel her.

            It’s thrilling, to be forced to do as she says. To be controlled, so subtly but precisely, wrapped tightly around her little finger and made so keenly aware of it. The feeling is breathtaking. A bone deep ache that says he is _hers_ , entirely, irrefutably.

            Allura blinks at him, signaling for him to speak. Lance licks his lips and takes a breath. “Please… Please touch me.” She raises her brows in a pointed askance for more. He can feel the tingling sting of a blush searing his cheeks. “My dick. Please.”

            She dips her head to kiss him over his heart, soft at first. He arches into her when she suddenly bites down and sucks, pulling him up into the heat of her mouth and running her tongue along his skin. She pulls back to shake her head, tossing hair over her shoulder, then dips back down and worries the mark even more, darkening the bruise and deepening her claim.

            Lance moans and tosses his head back, stars bursting in his mind’s eye when she pulls back again and closes her left hand around his dick. Her grip is firm and warm around him, leaving him trembling with every steady tug. Again and again and again, she pulls, an even rhythm that she maintains even as she shifts her position to sit up and straddle his thigh. Lance’s eyes roll back in his head; he can feel her arousal against his leg, slick and hot. A testament to how much she’s enjoying this. Enjoying him.

            “ _Good boy_ ,” she purrs as she presses her thumb into his slit. Lance keens and lifts his hips. “Oh, I do love that sound.”

            Lance whines again, cracking his eyes to look at her while she strokes him, but another swipe of the thumb has his eyes rolling back once more. He can’t focus like this, attention split between each quickening pull of her hand, the praises she hums out like secrets, and the subtle rock of her hips against his leg. With every groan and high, breathy sound he makes, her own breaths come out harder, more shaken. It only winds Lance up tighter.

            “F-fuck,” he moans. Allura echoes him, dropping forward to nestle her head in the crook of his neck. She shifts her weight, releasing him for a moment to switch hands. Then she presses her foot against his leg, urging him to hike it up higher for her, and press further between her legs. He follows her silent order, pushing up firmer for her, and she moans into his neck. Lance answers it with his own overwhelmed sound.

            He can feel her panting as she shifts against him, hips and hand working in the same rhythm to bring them both pleasure. The pressure is building up in his core, his muscles tightening more and more under her hand. But for as close as he is, he can tell the constant motion is taking its toll on her wrist. She pauses again to roll her hand before picking back up, pressing a kiss just behind his ear and murmuring a husky apology. Lance rocks his hips to try and ease the stress of the angle, and in doing so, inadvertently shifts his leg up higher.

            “ _Oh_ , yes, _yes_ ,” she pants into his skin. For a moment her hand stills, and he peeks to catch a glimpse of her face. Narrow brows pinched up and eyes shut tight, she rocks, her bottom lip tucked between even teeth. Fire shoots down Lance’s spine. _He_ did that – this beautiful woman is so disarmingly aroused because of _him_. It’s enough to have his mind fuzzing over, coherent thoughts slipping away under the tide of pride and hopeless arousal that surges through him. When she recovers enough to take him in hand again, Lance can feel himself breaking down.

            “ _Ah_ … I-I’m, I… _hn_ …” He pants and keens, rolling his head back to bare his throat to her. Allura nips his ear.

            “Shhhh,” she soothes while he moans, pressing against his slit again. “That’s it, Lance. You’re so good for me, aren’t you? Taking this so wonderfully well.” The pressure builds, harsher and harsher, threatening to steal his very breath as it shudders out in husking moans, each one beyond his control. “Come for me, sweetheart,” she breathes. Lance shudders.

            Allura presses another kiss to the crook of his neck and strokes her thumb over his head, and that’s enough. Lance arches up and into her hand, body wracked with the reverberations of the snapped tension and pulsing, each jolt spilling another rush of silken cum out across Allura’s hand. He moans with each rush, and Allura echoes him, her husking voice in his ear only egging him on.

            “Yes, that’s it. _Gods_ , Lance, you sound so _good_.”

            It peters off in waves, like the tide receding from the shore. Slowly, breathing becomes easier, and his body stops shuddering with the surges of his release. Lance throws a heavy arm over his face, blocking his eyes, and tries to regain coherent thought. Allura strokes her dirtied hand across his hip in a soothing but messy gesture as he drops his leg. He’ll remind her later that earthlings consider it gross to smear cooling cum across each other’s skin. For now, he just wants to feel the steady weight of her across his chest.

            “You are wonderful,” Allura says and kisses his hairline. Lance bites his lip and moves his arm to blink shyly at her. She’s smiling, castle lights highlighting her pearly whites and washing them baby blue. Suddenly he wants to wrap her up in his arms and never let go. Or let her pull him close to her chest, so close they meld together into one person. Or at least, close enough for him to pretend.

            Allura strokes her clean hand over his cheek, following her thumb with a kiss. Lance tilts his head into it and chases her lips when she draws back, coaxing her down into a fuller kiss. His head is still buzzing, but the heavy bonelessness he feels is a comfort, soothing compared to the post-battle aches they’re used to. It’s a more peaceful sort of ache, a reward in its own right when all of his muscles lay lax against the sheets.

            He watches her as she pulls back, another gentle smile on her lips. His heart stutters. Allura is so beautiful, lain out over top of him, her bare skin catching the soft lights and almost shimmering. Perhaps that is just the way the light catches on her sweat, but Lance doesn’t care. He’s enthralled no matter how dirty they are.

            “Thank you,” he breathes. She chuckles, kisses his nose.

            “Don’t thank me,” she chides and kisses him again. Kisses her way up the bridge of his nose and across his forehead, like she can’t help herself. Each featherlight kiss tickles, and he snickers, head still swimming with endorphins. She laughs again and furthers her efforts, kissing more insistent all over his face until he’s squirming away, face wrinkled with laughter. Allura hums and settles her head on his shoulder.

            “I love you,” she sighs. He shivers and grins, turns his head to meet her eyes.

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah.”

            She’s drifting, eyes half-lidded and words slow. As though his orgasm wore her out more than it did him. He laughs under his breath and stretches his neck to kiss her forehead and the loose strip of bangs falling there.

            The air around them hums with the leftover energy of the night, the scent of their sweat and releases – or, his release, and her slick – hovering over them. It’s atmospheric, in some ways, though he knows they’ll be quick to usher out the scent when morning comes. The risk of it following them out of this place is too great.

            Lance strokes Allura’s hair, running his hand down the back of her head in a slow, steady rhythm. It makes him sleepy, the even motion of it, and certainly soothes her. He watches her eyes drifting closed, fluttering back open for a moment before accepting it’s time to rest.

            “I love you too,” he mumbles. Allura smiles and sighs, content.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me and reblog this story on [tumblr](http://maple-moose-muffin.tumblr.com/), where I always tag new season spoilers.


End file.
